1538 6 4
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There were days in my youth when, through no fault of their own, my parents could not drive me the seven mile trip to my elementary school. When I got older they bought me a bike and that proved duly adequate as conveyance. But when I was six years in age
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83822
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We were busy painting pictures of False Hope
on the face of Reality.
Tattoos really.
But they faded with time.
And I now know this:
Nostalgia isn’t what it used to be.
I saw an older writer in a slouched-down Fedora,
gray beard and long sc
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28871
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You might be Miss Piggy. But I'm not Kermit the frog.I miscalculate the sums of our predicamenttrying to catch the dragonflies, rolling aroundthe dampness of our resenting this old modern world.You might be Missy Piggy. But I'm not Kermit the frog.I'm just here…
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99032
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On the way inside, Peter stopped a moment on the deck and scanned the trees for the raven he and Lottie had seen at lunch. It wasn't there. Of course it wasn't there. He scanned the beach, the rocks and broken shells, the damp stinking rafts of seaweed with their rubbery…
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101763
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Memory is unreliable, of course-/
re-coloring savored scenes-/
paler here, more saturated there-
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13651311
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Enough, Trump. We've had it my dear, with your pink ties, your hairs, your swagger, your towers, your money, tempers, walls, bombs, smarts, snarls, pouts and doubts, bigotty bile, and once again, style. We just…
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13702016
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The night before his mother's teeth began chattering.
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14591912
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I was to limp with stunned, growing horror, as I navigated through the swirling smoke and maze of human corpses...
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169088
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It took all four of his kids to convince my father to pull the plug. Mom's car crash had left her a vegetable, but of course he hung on. Once they withdrew life support, she was gone in ten minutes. The first thing our father said was that he was hungry. He felt…
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117444
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I’m up to my kneecaps
in mockery and swill, and …
Excuse Me,
I’m Writing a Poem here?
Thank you. Sheesh!
As I was saying,
I’m up to my kneecaps in mockery and swill.
And I meet someone who
names all his fish after
people he doesn’t l
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133463
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SapphicsSlumber comes too late to scare awakening; I know, before, there was a life to bind me. I cross the streets instead and watch the rainfall Murmur without ears. It can know no sound but seems…
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31382
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IGlasgow, its swollen bleeding face, its unrepentant eyesProud inside its operas, vain within its shames.Watch these sanctities unsound shrink into their oneness.Set these centuries alight, peer into the flames.Into their time descending the pedestrians now cease,all is…
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117511
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It's called the Knee Defender. But I prefer to think of it as the Schmuck Identifier.
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110043
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You watch with frigid eyes, as their soggy woolens squelch dark mud, even smiling a little as they make croaking frog-lure noises. You know eventually a toad or two would land in the Frogger. You like the word Frogger.
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120685
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We will collapse in a storm of images
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630196
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I realize I am standing with my hands on my naked hips, my panties and shorts are clumped around my left ankle.
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14561610
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123064
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It was 6 a.m. when the phone next to the bed awakened Francesco.
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88954
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In an area of high winds
and strong convictions, I have
lived among the ever-changing crowd
that is always the same.
I must have died overnight,
and now my wings are
flapping in my own face.
I used to be an owl,
a night owl, to be sure
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104322
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Couldn’t
we
just
do
a
quick
ie
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104422
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Why should you
go through that
for me?
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1325148
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Yes, he'll be quiet. Very quiet. He rocks himself, the ark, suddenly imagining water underneath him, over head, all around. Water, water, water—
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153166
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The man and the whore lay in bed together. It was a cold night and they were warmed by the heat beneath the…
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33385
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Such pretty dogma, a voice in sleepstutters a wakefulness, clings to the Gothiclike a warrior clings to war.You wear the gown of impossibility.Before unfinished works of suns,perpetual irises, wonderful, mad,armed with such superlativesI heap praise upon your pineal…
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122854
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Quarts of philosophy may be transacted by semantic obstetrics.
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83311
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He leans forward across the cafe table,
holding both of her hands,
and tries to kiss her on the lips,
but she pulls back, making him beg for it.
Then she kisses the top of his downturned head.
Beg for it he will, and she knows it.
Now he
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96974
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i just seem to be stuck is all
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177364
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This was looking down from what we know as The Grassy Knoll.
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1235126
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a little bitter for the better
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119252
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It's morning, and the cold black hull of branches sets my resting pier, Amid this drizzle, underneath the poignant pain of birches, wrecked By floods of midyear grieving; wraithlike, Dawn's been becked To paint in shafts of faded rose that shades the fen…
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